


Our Love is So Secret (People Write Songs About It)

by Shipwreck_Mary



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, POV Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shipwreck_Mary/pseuds/Shipwreck_Mary
Summary: The treaty with Almyra was, of course, the type of historical occasion that almost never happened. The ritual was also... surprising.But Dimitri was more concerned about trying to figure out where he and Claude stood.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

It was to be expected that every noble in Fódlan had turned out for the festivities, give or take a few of the noble houses of the former Adrestian Empire, still nursing real grudges and imagined slights. A treaty with Almyra was something new, a hint of a new future for Fòdlan with different values and new dreams. But Dimitri was no naïve prince anymore. Yes, curiosity had played a part, but so had greed and avarice. After all, Almyra opened up opportunities for impoverished nobles and rich merchants alike. Everybody wanted to be there when it happened or, at least, to partake in the delicacies brought over by their allies while jockeying for royal favor. 

It was why Dimitri had agreed to the masquerade ball: he knew his subjects would appreciate the chance to show off their wealth and their taste. Some even managed to show off their creativity. It had been a good idea, even if when Claude had sent a letter asking for an animal-themed ball Dimitri had thought it a joke. It hadn’t been and now a colorful menagerie of fanciful creatures attired with the finest silks and the richest embroidered brocade spilled out of the ballroom into the halls and the gardens of the castle. The ballroom was too hot now — full of people, probably. It was also noisy because wine had flown freely and everybody was into their cups. Dimitri wasn’t sure if that was good or not: drunk nobles were easy to please, but also easy to anger.

It was too bad that, even with the masks, Dimitri couldn’t hide. Not with his height and not while wearing a lion mask — not the most creative choice, but nobody expected creativity from the king. He needed to get out before another old man enterprising to sell his daughter to the king put an arm around his shoulders and began spinning flattery with his honeyed tongue.

He followed the crowds into the gardens and was grateful for the cold night air and the pale moonlight.

The crowds thinned as he went deeper into the gardens, ignoring calls and cheers. The worst thing that could happen would be an ambush by assassins sent by some disgruntled minor noble and he could handle that himself. In a way, getting stabbed would be easier to handle than court intrigue.

He knew what place he was seeking — a small copse of tall, thin birch trees that held a small chapel dedicated to Saint Cethleann. Nothing too fancy: a statue of the saint with a fountain at its feet, two benches, nothing else. It was so covered in moss and ivy that most people didn’t know it was there. He sat on an aged stone bench and closed his eyes, letting the stillness of night envelop him until unsteady, clumsy footsteps broke the spell. He couldn’t contain a sigh as he stood up and turned around to welcome whoever it was.

A man dressed in the Almyran fashion and wearing a deer mask was resting against one of the trees. A pleasant surprise and not entirely an unexpected one.

‘Tired already, Your Majesty?’

Of course Claude had followed him. Which was bad. The feasts, the balls, and the dreaded ritual at the end of the entire thing were about showing their friendship and mutual understanding to their subjects, and yet here they were, two kings playing hide-and-seek as if they were children still.

‘Am I… I’m not. I will go back now.’

‘There is no need for that. I doubt most of the people here even remember who their king is.’

Dimitri walked towards Claude and loomed over him. Claude shivered, making a show of it. It wasn’t fear, not entirely.

‘Come on, let’s go, they’re expecting us.’

‘Silence. Nobody is waiting for me,’ Claude said before putting a finger on Dimitri’s lips. ‘I’m just a drunken courtier. Maybe not even that.’

Dimitri raised his eyebrows. He had learned long ago not to trust the man, at least not when it came to truths about himself.

He did look pretty in the moonlight, though.

‘Where do you come from then, drunken courtier?’

‘I’m just a mercenary. Hired by a not very honest merchant from Almyra..’

‘You look a bit spoiled for that.’

‘That’s insulting. And here I was going to be generous and…’

‘And what?’

Claude said nothing and turned around. Dimitri grabbed his wrist. When Claude looked at him over his shoulder, Dimitri knew that he had lost at whatever game they were playing.

‘Yes? Want me to stay, then?’

‘Ah. I would like that, your… Whoever you are.’

‘Like I said, I’m nobody important,’ Claude said and swayed right into Dimitri’s chest. He looked up and batted his eyelashes as If he weren’t one of the most powerful men in the world. ‘And who are you then?’

‘Just… just a tired old knight wanting some peace and quiet.’

It wasn’t a lie,

‘Hm. You don’t look that peaceful to me. I wonder what’d make you lose that frown.’

He shrugged.

‘Eloquent,’ Claude said and laughed. He put his hand over Dimitri’s chest and Dimitri covered it with his own. Claude sighed and his shoulders dropped. Dimitri put his arm around his waist and brought him closer. The breeze brought the echoes of distant laughter and faraway music.

‘Fancy a dance?’ Claude said. 

Dimitri sometimes got tired of his games and he knew that what they had started was a lot more complicated than a dance under the moonlight, but moments like this made it worth it.

‘I’m drunk enough to say yes,’ he said. ‘But…’

‘But what?’

‘They could see us.’

‘That’s what you’re worried about? They’re going to see even more tomorrow night.’

‘It’s not the same.’

The ritual would be a farce. This was… intimate. Real. Not something Dimitri wanted to share.

‘Just follow my cue,’ Claude said before putting his hand on Dimitri’s waist. Dimitri sighed and let himself be commanded — they twisted and swirled. It was a transparent maneuver to get him into the chapel, but Dimitri would let Claude have his fun and pretend he hadn’t noticed. Once they were inside, Claude pushed Dimitri against the wall. 

This had begun back in Almyra, a few seasons ago, but Dimitri still wasn’t used to this new whatever-it-was that had grown between two kings with too much on their shoulders. Still, he wasn’t going to complain. Not when the moon was shining and Claude was so close.

‘I have enjoyed this game but…’ Dimitri said and took off his mask. It fell to the floor.

‘The King? I could’ve never imagined…’ Dimitri tore the mask off Claude’s face. Claude just laughed and leaned in. ‘Fine. You win.’

Claude put his arms around Dimitri’s shoulders and kissed him, so Dimitri brought him closer. It wasn’t their most elegant kiss but it didn’t matter: soon enough, Claude would be going back to Almyra. He’d be far instead of moaning and grabbing Dimitri’s clothes. Dimitri lowered his hands until he could grab Claude’s ass and enjoy the thickness of his thighs. 

Claude seemed to realize how much Dimitri enjoyed Claude’s thighs because he put his leg between Dimitri’s. His cock twitched, already hard and leaking. He pressed it against Claude’s leg.

‘Are you going to come in your pants again? We’re not in the Academy anymore, you know.’

Dimitri scoffed. Yes, during their first encounter Dimitri had been… eager, but it was time Claude let it go. He grabbed Claude by the nape and crashed into a kiss. Claude shook with muffled laughter before kissing back.

The worst part was that… he was most likely going to come in his pants again. How could he not, when Claude was rubbing his leg against Dimitri’s dick like that? He bit Claude’s lip before stopping the kiss.

‘You’re close.’

Dimitri laughed against Claude’s neck and then he shook and came with a small gasp. ‘All your fault.’

Before Claude could continue mocking him, he fumbled with Claude’s pants until his cock was free.

‘Oh, good way of apologizing for your shameful displ…’

‘Shut up,’ he said. He rubbed his thumb around the ridge right below the head of Claude’s dick.

‘You know I… Oh, yes, just like that.’

Claude, knowing too well how strong Dimitri was, put all his weight on Dimitri’s chest. It was no matter. Dimitri could handle it.

Now it was time to make him come — first he pulled the foreskin back and stroked the slit. Claude shuddered in his arms. He always liked that. Then, Dimitri put his hand around It and tightened it. Claude began fucking Dimitri’s fist. There was nothing else in the world that mattered more, at that moment, than the sight of Claude’s exposed throat and the sound of his raspy moans. 

Outside, whoever was there was no longer laughing. He could hear the rustling of the leaves and quiet sighs and _let’s go inside, they’re…_. The voice seemed familiar.

‘D-dim… they’re going to…’

He kissed Claude so he’d shut up. Claude’s fingers dug into Dimitri’s shoulders as he came. Dimitri cleaned his hand against Claude’s clothes

‘Tonight… after this… I’ll take my revenge. I promise you,’ Claude said, before stepping away from Dimitri. He tucked his dick back into his pants, but the evidence of what they had been doing was all over him: the love bites, the sweat in his brow, his hair all over the place. ‘And you look even worse than I do, just so you know.’

Dimitri smiled as he watched Claude leave — he couldn’t wait until Claude’s revenge. He had an inkling it’d be enjoyable.


	2. Chapter 2

He walked through the gardens, barely acknowledging the jeers from the drunks that littered the castle. He felt light, and he would not waste his good mood on sneering Almyrans or his own fawning courtiers. Nobody bothered him, at least, when he left the ballroom. His room was thankfully silent and dark and he wasted no time before taking off his mask. It fell to the floor, where it laid like the incongruent corpse of some odd creature. With a satisfied grunt, he kicked off his boots — blood flooded back into his feet as he moved his ankles and wiggled each of his toes. Next was stripping all his clothes but his pants, layer by layer.

He didn’t think he’d fall asleep, not when outside people still danced and laughed. He opened the curtains and let the moonlight in. Was Claude still mingling with their subjects, a clever rejoinder always at the ready? Or was he waiting somewhere quiet, like Dimitri was? Not likely. If he knew that Dimitri was staying awake like a restless maiden in a song waiting for her forbidden lover, he’d mock him for sure.

His thoughts drifted to the ritual, to the details he had tried not to think about: how could they act as if it’d be something new? How to keep up appearances? People knew them to be friends, yes, but there was something more that Dimitri cared not to name. As his thumb rubbed the outline of his cock, he remembered Claude back in Almyra, how he had knelt before Dimitri and took his cock inside his mouth. How his lips had gone up and down Dimitri’s shaft, how saliva and cum had dripped down his chin, the warmth of his mouth when Dimitri had come helplessly and soundlessly.

When he heard a sudden rustling of clothes, he couldn’t help but flinch. He knew it had to be Claude, but his body hadn’t gotten the message. He looked over his shoulder and only when he saw Claude’s unmistakable silhouette did his shoulders relax and his fists uncurl.

‘It’s just me. And I’m not here to murder you.’

As Claude walked closer, he let his mask fall off to the side. He had already changed out of his heavy, ornate clothes and was now wearing only his pants and a loose shirt. If he really tried, Dimitri could pretend they were two normal men, beholden only to their own desires. Childish games, he thought, the type of self-delusion that could prove dangerous. He was tired of thinking and doubting, so he crossed the room in one or two strides and grabbed Claude by the hips. Their bodies crushed against each other and bringing him closer to him.

‘I don’t know, maybe it’s a cunning plan to kill the king of…’

‘Shush. I’d be more subtle about it,’ Claude said before grabbing Dimitri by the neck and kissing him, deeply.

Dimitri let himself be pushed back onto the bed and sank into the mattress. He gave himself to the kiss, enjoying the pressure of Claude’s hard body against his. Claude’s weight on top of him and Claude’s roaming hands scratching his back soothed him, anchored him to the moment. Heat spread through his body and he put his arms around Claude’s waist. But he still needed to be closer, so close the world would disappear, so he pushed his hips against Claude’s. It was no surprise when his hard dick rubbed against Claude’s.

‘I should let you go to sleep like that, all frustrated, after what you did tonight. It’d be the least you deserve.’

‘You won’t.’

‘Sadly, you’re right. I’m too merciful, too generous,’ Claude said while he unlaced Dimitri’s pants and then his own. Dimitri shuddered when Claude’s fingers brushed lightly against the underside of his cock. ‘I should make you beg.’ His fingers wrapped around Dimitri’s cock and pulled back, exposing the head. He stroked the slit and Dimitri let himself moan. ‘I should make you wait. Desperate. Wanton. Too bad I’ve been always too impatient for that.’

Those were filthy lies. Back in Almyra, Claude had delighted in taking Dimitri apart more than once. Dimitri _had_ begged and whined and cried for release. But Claude was probably still drunk. Maybe he had even missed Dimitri all these months, because without any further teasing, he took out his own cock from his pants and covered both their cocks with his hand.

The friction was maddening and almost too much. Dimitri dug his fingers into Claude’s ass and brought him closer. He kissed him again, sloppily, and Claude laughed before kissing back. His hand hadn’t stopped moving, not for one second, and soon it overwhelmed Dimitri. His whole body tensed up and then, for one blissful second, nothing mattered but Claude’s hand on his cock and Claude’s tongue inside his mouth.

Spent, he laid back on the bed. He was hazy with the relief of pleasure and his limbs would not move. Soon, Claude himself shivered and came on Dimitri’s chest.

He was saying something but Dimitri was already falling asleep and didn’t care enough to understand. The warm, caressing tone was enough to know what Claude meant.

But his rest, like always, was short and fitful.   
He no longer woke up screaming, but he still never slept through the night and that night was no exception.

So waking up wasn’t a surprise — Claude still being in his arms was. This had never happened before, not those few times they had fooled around in the Academy and not during Dimitri’s visit to Almyra. He didn’t dare to move, because this was a new side of Claude. The peaceful, quiet one that wasn’t busy making plans or pretending he had made them already. Dimitri suspected that most of his planning was luck and the ability to improvise, but he never said that out loud. It was better to help uphold the legend of Claude von Riegan, schemer at large.

When he nuzzled Claude’s neck and pressed his body against Claude’s back, he realized he was hard again. He didn’t know what to do, but he didn’t have to: Claude woke up and glanced at him over his shoulder.

‘Really? _Againadorable_. Before he could make the mistake of telling Claude so, Claude was spreading his legs, just wide enough so that Dimitri could slide his cock between his thick thighs. It was an odd sensation, but the heat and the pressure were… nice. His first thrust was timid, more of a test than anything else but then he gained speed. Claude pressed his legs together and let Dimitri fuck his thighs fast and hard.

And again he didn’t last long — his yearning for Claude too much to control himself. With one last shallow thrust, he came between Claude’s legs but didn’t let go of him.

But Claude began wriggling, like he always did. He always looked as if he had to be somewhere more important dealing with more urgent matters. 

‘I need to leave… Sorry,’ Claude said and kissed Dimitri’s hand. It was gentle, too gentle for somebody like Dimitri. ‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

Dimitri tightened his arms around him. Was Dimitri’s company that dreadful?

‘We both know we can’t afford this to become common knowledge.’

They both knew it so well that it had never been an argument. Dimitri had never pleaded with Claude so he’d stay, Claude had never begged him for a public declaration. With their brand-new reigns and a Fódlan still suffering the aftershocks of war, it was no time for weaknesses. No self-respecting courtier vying for power would let such an opportunity go. That was the reason the details for the ritual had been kept among a trusted few, after all: nobody wanted to know that their king was bedding their enemy. 

But sometimes he wished he could throw a tantrum about it and whine until Claude gave in. Instead, he sighed and let Claude go. He closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep again to no avail. Claude was getting dressed in a hurry. He’d leave and tomorrow they’d act like good friends who were nothing else, only tied together by the bonds of battle.

The mattress dipped and he opened his eyes. Claude had climbed onto the bed and was leaning on top of him.

‘Good morning. See you at breakfast,’ he said and gave Dimitri one last kiss.

And then he left. Dimitri had grown too used to watching him leave.


End file.
